Today
by jujudog1217
Summary: Lydia can't keep her eyes off of Stiles.


Lydia surveyed the endless heap of papers strewn across the carpet of Stiles' room. Research, records, case reports, and everything in between held knowledge that Lydia and Stiles planned to access.

"Here." Stiles leaned towards Lydia, pointing at a sentence. "It says he has a history of murder. His whole family was psychotic."

Lydia's gaze lingered on his hands for a moment too long before answering, "Hmm..." She faked thought. "Maybe we can use that against him."

Stiles nodded. The light beams slicing through the window highlighted his jawline and his eyes glowed brighter. Lydia peered at the way his jaw clenched and un-clenched while he concentrated. His fingers fidgeted slightly, a trait Lydia hadn't noticed until now. The blueish veins etched along the tendons on the back of his hands became more visible with every movement.

"But what if..." Stiles' voice rang in Lydia's ears like a songbird in the morning. She kept her eyes locked on his as if she was listening intently; which she usually did, but today she couldn't seem to focus. She played with her hair and nodded every few seconds.

Stiles' theory needed more data. He crouched down to floor level and stretched over one pile of papers to get to another. His shirt rode up and exposed his toned back and the rim of his boxers.

Lydia's eyebrows raised slightly and her eyes widened marginally. What was with her today? She could generally keep herself under control.

Stiles raised back up. Lydia blinked back to her normal expression. Stiles stood behind Lydia and reached around her to give them both a view of the information. He was so tall and Lydia could faintly smell his cologne. Lydia's insides tensed and flipped. Her breathing felt heavier and louder. She couldn't comprehend the evidence in front if her.

"I... I'm having trouble focusing today." Lydia uttered without looking at the cause of her distractions.

"That's OK I think I figured it out." Stiles replied unfazed and oblivious.

He moved in front of her now, as if to present his beliefs to her. His lips moved rapidly even though his words were moderately paced. His tongue often passed over his lower lip and left it sparkling. Heat radiated off of Lydia.

He stopped talking and pursed his lips. Stiles' pout sharpened his cheek bones. The moles dotted around his face looked prominent against his pale skin. His intense stare at the paper gave Lydia time to study and memorize every corner and edge of Stiles Stilinski. Or so she thought.

Stiles tossed the paper to the ground. It fluttered in a zig-zag and landed softly. He squatted on the ground, trying to find the right article. Within the mess, a few papers must have slid under his night stand. Stiles spotted them and decided to move the obstacle out of the way. Lydia walked over to help but Stiles was already lifting the object away.

The muscles on his arms bulged and the veins on his forearms did the same. Lydia grabbed the stray papers that had habituated under the night stand and handed them off to Stiles. He thanked her with his crooked grin and the dimples that associated with it.

Lydia fanned herself with her hand hoping Stiles would pass it off as heat and not the hots.

"Are you hot?" Stiles asked.

"Uh... yeah I guess so."

Stiles proceeded to close the blinds. The room grew dim. A soft silhouette floated across the bedroom like an apparition. The space was dark enough where Lydia couldn't see Stiles' eyes. She elected this a bad thing. But that meant Stiles couldn't see her eyes either.

They glided over to Stiles' bed. He was equipped with a stack of papers and sat nearest the window. His shoulders were outlined with delicate light and his neck moved in sync with his examination of the papers. She traced the moles with her eyes and wondered how far they went down. The collar of his shirt was so restricting and limiting.

Suddenly she remembered the time when Scott pushed Stiles into a pool. Stiles' white plain t-shirt stuck to his body like an extra layer of skin. Apparently lacrosse is a labor intensive and physically demanding sport, for Stiles possessed the fit physique suited for an Abercrombie model. The white shirt clung to every dip and groove carved into Stiles' body. His upper body was chiseled as if by Gods. His arms were perfectly sculpted and his shoulders and neck complimented his frame to form an overall kiss-able individual.

Lydia's daydreaming was interrupted by more of Stiles' theories. She listened and agreed. She actually understood what he was saying this time because she knew he wanted her to. As he was elaborating his neck was turned towards her and his face was only inches away from Lydia's. Normally she wouldn't have thought anything about this experience, but the way his breath felt on her skin and the way his eyelashes appeared to reflect the small amount of light. She was being hypnotized, falling into a trance, just by Stiles being Stiles.

She noticed the way he emphasized a point with his eyebrows and how the picture of his mom on his desk seemed to be the cleanest thing in his room.

Stiles continued speaking and Lydia watched his lips. The faint pinkness of them appeared darker than normal and even more mesmerizing.

As he was explaining his hypothesis his hands grasped onto his hair. He swept them through like a comb. His fingers gripping and twisting, attempting to rake out more brain power. Lydia imagined raking her own fingers through his hair.

Her eyes tracked Stiles' movements. Every breath, blink, and swallow was recorded by Lydia's sight.

"Stiles sure is beautiful." Lydia thought. He could be an angel or a monument. He could be a painting or a postcard. He could be on currency or in magazines.

"Do you think this one will be easy?" Stiles said, a tinge of concern and worry in his voice.

"Well, if we've beat all the others, who have been pretty powerful, I'd say this one's no different." Lydia reassured him. She looked in front of her and felt Stiles' eyes on the side of her face. The loving peeks he often stole at her made Lydia feel wanted.

"Oh yeah." Lydia's eyes expanded and her lips parted. Just that small sound. The whispery, raspy vocalization sent vibrating heat waves from Lydia's toes to her forehead. It was taking all she had to control herself.

Lydia scooted closer to Stiles so their legs and hips met. Stiles barely notice this. Although, he did stop flipping through the papers for a moment and his line of sight flickered onto the floor.

Her eyes never left his face. The emission of his pulsing presence transmitting from him left a comforting vibe. Stiles just sitting there, practically doing nothing and not even trying was sexy as hell. Lydia bit her lip in an attempt to grasp the tiniest bit of discipline within herself.

Stiles' head turned to the side while he looked for more research. Lydia finally broke.

She leaned the last few inches forward and began licking his ear. Breathing lightly on the cartilage and licking the lobe ever so slightly. His hands were still and his breathing almost silent. His tense back proved how surprising these actions were. His face held shock, but also pleasure that he didn't want to end. Lydia whispered his name every so often.

She moved her lips from his ear to his jaw; kissing across his jawline. Trails of lip gloss glistened on Stiles. Moving down to his neck he gently and slowly tilted his head to give her more room. Light, soft moans escaped from his breathless lungs. Vibrating growls freed themselves from his throat. The sensation felt like falling in slow-motion or floating through space to Stiles. His eyes fluttered closed just as Lydia started her way back up his neck. She kissed his collarbones and the intersection of his neck and chin. She kissed his cheek before finally landing on his lips. Her left hand reached around him and stroked the back of his neck. Her right hand found its way up to his hair. Tangling her fingers and greeting every strand was exactly how she hoped it would feel. Stiles relaxed and pulled Lydia closer. His hands settled on her back but eventually moved up to her face. Her lip gloss transferred from her own lips to his. It was smeared all around her mouth, but for once, she didn't care what she looked like.

When they parted, Stiles dragged his thumb down Lydia's bottom lip, pulling it downward. He trailed his fingers over her chin and down her neck. Every touch was accompanied by a jolt of electricity that started a fire.

Stiles' eyes followed his hand until he looked back up at Lydia. She looked so delicate but also so demanding. Their eyes were still too dark to see but they both knew of the way they looked at each other. Stiles dove forward and caught Lydia's lips on his once again. His tongue danced with hers. Even though their eyes were closed they could see perfectly clear.

Lydia slowly reclined from her upright position as Stiles was gradually lowered on top of her. Their lips intertwined, their fingers intertwined, and their legs intertwined.

Lydia's French manicured nails massaged Stiles' back. And Stiles' own hands were grabbing her waist. His fingers crept under the hem of her shirt and he was finally touching bare skin. His cool hands against her burning sides birthed supernovas in her heart. Their bodies lay flush on top of each other. Their heartbeats mingled. The pulses so fast and identical.

The setting sun turned the room an orange-ish hue. A beam of light avoiding the blinds landed on Stiles' face. Right on his eyes. The iris' gleamed with iridescence. A golden color that made his face look brighter in all ways.

Stiles noticed her admiring glance, even in the fading light. He plunged his head to her collarbone. He kissed her velvety skin over and over. Biting and sucking in the same spot. Red marks populated Lydia's chest and she grinned at Stiles' skills.

Tonight is going to be memorable.


End file.
